FanGirl Squeal (RockStars of Romance Book 1) (19 page)

A stream of profanity flew out of his mouth when Savannah
stilled, clenched, and took him with her as one orgasm then another washed over
her in long waves. Completely out of breath, her skin glistening under a thin
layer of sweat, Savannah collapsed onto his chest. He rubbed her shoulders and
stroked her damp back as she whimpered and shuddered on top of him.

He wanted to say something but words had completely escaped
him. He needed a minute to compose his thoughts. They laid still and silent
until Cash had to remove the condom. Savannah reached for her t-shirt then
handed Cash a lukewarm beer.

“You know exactly what a man needs,” he joked.

Savannah twisted the cap off her own beer and winked at him.
“I know what you need.”

When Savannah cuddled up next to him, sipping her beer, Cash
stopped caring about the fan thing…the blogger thing or the fact that he just
met her. None of it mattered. All that mattered was her.

The sun had barely broken through the clouds when my eyes
popped open. Cash was lying on the other side of his bed, a tangled mess of
dark hair, white sheets, tanned skin, and tattoos. His little snore was
adorable. I was tempted to plant a kiss on his shoulder but I didn’t want to
wake him. After his performance last night, he deserved to rest.

I eased out of the bed as quietly and smoothly as possible.
His A/C was on full blast. Without Cash’s heat to keep my naked body warm, my
skin instantly broke out in goose bumps. I quickly dressed in my borrowed
shorts and tank top, grabbed my phone out of my clutch, and slipped out of the
bedroom.

The condo was so quiet that the simple movement of opening
and closing the balcony door sounded like a sonic blast. I sat down in one of
Cash’s chairs, tucked my feet underneath me, and clipped on my Bluetooth. I had
fourteen missed calls. Ten of them were from Ashley.

I wasn’t surprised when she answered on the first ring.
Ashley and her child get up at the crack of dawn every day.

“Savannah! Where are you? I’ve been calling you all night!”

“I see that. Did you use my phone to text Cash from the
party?” I wanted to know.

“Of course,” she replied like texting a superstar and
pretending to be me was as normal as drinking coffee in the morning. “You
needed to leave and he was the last number you texted. Plus, you know I wasn’t
about to call Cassie or Joy. What’s the problem? You seemed happy enough to see
him last night.”

I wanted to talk about Cash, but do I really want to have
this conversation with Ashley of all people? She is a pair of ears and right now,
that’s all that I really need. My feelings are threatening to consume me.

“I’m at his place,” I whispered. “I spent the night.”

Saying the words out loud confirmed that last night had not
been a figment of my imagination. I had not imagined that we made love on the
rooftop of his apartment building and in his bed.

Made love? Strong words, Savannah
, I thought to
myself.

Ashley was silent on her end, so quiet that I could hear my
nephew sucking his bottle.

“Did you have sex with Cash Myers?” she finally asked.

“Yes,” I giggled. “Three times.”

“Did you use protection?”

“Of course. I’m not a complete idiot, Ash.”

“So,” Ashley paused and I prepared to be lectured about
having casual sex with guys I’ve only known for a couple of days. “How was he?”

My mouth dropped open. I was stunned. Ashley has never
talked about sex with me. Whenever I try, she always says it grosses her out
and she doesn’t like having the image of her sister having sex in her head. But
since she opened the door…

“O-M-G! Ashley, I swear, I have never had sex like that
before! It was the best thing ever. Imagine the best sex you’ve ever had, multiply
it by a million, then add in that feeling you get when you eat Grandma’s carrot
cake. It was better than that.”

Ashley laughed. “Oh wow. That’s good.”

“I know, right! It was like he was fascinated with my body
and wanted to worship it all night.”

“I’m sure he was,” Ashley replied. “He doesn’t seem like the
type of guy who has slept with a lot of black women.”

I let her remark slide. Cash’s balcony was not a good place
to engage my sister in one of our epic screaming matches.

“Look, Ash-”

She interrupted me. “Why do you insist on calling me that?
You know I hate it.”

I let out an exasperated sigh. “Are you going to let me
talk? I have something that I want to say. Or would you prefer me to email you?”

Ashley actually chuckled. “Sorry. Go ahead. What were you
saying?”

“I just wanted to tell you thanks for what you did. And not
just for getting Cash to come get me. For what you said to Jacoby and for
coming to find me when I ran out of the party. You’re the only one who has
never said that I should be over Jacoby by now. We don’t always see eye to eye,
but when it comes down to that situation, it’s nice to know that you have my
back. I owe you one, big sis.”

“Banana,” Ashley sighed. Were those tears I heard in her
voice? Probably not.

“How come you can call me that but I can’t call you Ash?”

“Because I nicknamed you Banana, remember? Ash is not a
nickname. And you don’t have to thank for being your sister. Savannah, I know
you don’t like me because we’re so different, but I love you because you’re my
sister. I don’t care if you don’t like me. I don’t care about why you don’t
like me. I’ll always have your back.”

I started to feel a little guilty, but she’s right. I don’t
like her. I don’t like how condescending she is all of the time. I don’t like
how prissy she is. I don’t like how she looks down on me and my friends because
we don’t conform to her standards of everything. But she is my sister and she
did a nice thing for me so I’ll give her a pass…today.

“Thanks. Can I say something else?”

“What?”

I took a deep breath. “This thing with Cash…I don’t think it’s
just about sex.”

“What do you mean?”

“I like him. I like him more than I should. He’s completely
out of my league but I can’t help it.”

“I don’t think that’s what it is,” Ashley replied. “You’ve
had an adult crush on him for years. Screwing him has been on your bucket list
since you were nineteen. It’s not like or lust. It’s that this fantasy of yours
has come true and you’re living in that space right now.”

“I don’t think so, Ashley, I really don’t.” I paused. “How
can I explain this? Do you remember those Secret Circle books we read when we
were kids? About the witches?”

“Vaguely.”

“Well, there was a mention of a silver cord in one of the
books. And the cord could be seen only by the people it connected…soul mates.”

“Oh Lord, Savannah! You’re kidding, right?” Ashley yelped. “Cash
Myers is not your soul mate and you are not a witch!”

“I know that,” I grumbled. “I know that when I’m with him, I
feel a connection and it’s not some stupid fangirl crush. It’s real, Ashley.”

I knew talking to her for more than three minutes was a bad
idea. I should have hung up the phone six minutes ago. Of course she didn’t get
it. Kevin wasn’t her soul mate. Kevin was the guy Dad thought would be good for
her. Anytime you let your father pick your husband, then he’s not going to be
your soul mate.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Savannah. You said so yourself, he’s
out of your league. Plus, you can’t have a relationship with a white man. You
know that, right? I mean, if you like him and he’s good in bed, have fun with
him since you’re into that kind of thing, but no matter what, you can’t date
him. And you better not let our parents find out about this.”

“Okay,” I sighed. “That’s enough of this conversation. It’s
been a pleasure, Ashley. I’ll call you when I get back to L.A.”

“Sure,” she said as cheerfully as ever, as if I hadn’t just
dismissed her entire thought process.

After we hung up, I looked at the call timer flashing on my
screen. We’d surpassed our three-minute limit by nine minutes and forty-three
seconds, a new record. If Ashley and I were actually trying to better our
relationship, that would definitely be considered progress.

Since I knew Amy and her husband would not be up yet and
Troy doesn’t answer his phone before eight, I eased the balcony door and padded
through Cash’s condo in my bare feet back to his room.

He hadn’t changed positions when I slipped back into his
bed. I wasn’t sleepy though. I couldn’t stop staring at him. No man has ever
kissed me like he does, or made love to me the way he did.

There’s that word again…made love.

I just don’t have another way to describe it. What we did
felt like more than just sex. It felt different. As unreal as it seems, I can’t
ignore that I’m falling for him.

And that can’t happen.

I hate to admit it that Ashley is ever right, but I can’t
date Cash Myers. Not just for the reasons that she gave though. I can’t date
him because that’s a surefire way to end up curled up in my bed with Phoebe and
Joey, crying over pints of Chunky Monkey. Heartbreak City, for sure.

Even before the gut wrenching heartbreak, there’s always Dr.
and Dr. Ford to contend with. I can see the scorn on their faces when I bring the
white boy to Harlem and introduce him to the folks.

My mother would probably clutch her pearls, thrust a copy of
W.E.B Dubois’
Souls of Black Folks
in my hand, and start singing old
Negro spirituals as my father rained down the shame of my ancestors upon me. In
our house it’s WWJD – what would Jesus do and WWDKD – what would Dr. King do?

My grandparents would die on the spot. They’re old school. I
think if separate but equal had really worked, my grandparents would have been
incredibly content. They’re all about building up the black community,
supporting black owned businesses, the whole “it takes a village” thing. They
lived in a different era, when interracial dating was not something that ended
well for a black person. I’ve heard the stories. It scares me a little. I’ve
never dated outside of my race because of the things I’ve seen and stories I
heard growing up.

Yeah…Cash and Savannah is just not going to happen.

I must have lain there for an hour, alternating between
staring at the flat white ceiling and staring at Cash’s back. The impending end
to this weekend doesn’t change the fact that all I want to do is climb on top
of him and ride him until he says my name again.

I slid over and pressed my chest against his back. I began
to kiss his shoulder as my arm slipped around his waist. Cash is so tall and
…big. Big hands, broad shoulders…he’s just big in all the right places.

As my hands explored Cash’s fine body, a low growl, deep and
animalistic, started in the back of his throat. He shifted his body and turned
his head to face me.

“You’re up,” he said sleepily.

I bit the corner of my lip and glanced at the sheet that was
haphazardly covering his waist.

“So are you.”

“Umm-hmm.” He rubbed one hand over my shorts. “Take these
off.”

I quickly wiggled out of the shorts and tossed them on the
floor. Cash rolled over and positioned himself above me. I wrapped my legs
around his slim waist as he lowered his head. He pressed his lips against my
neck.

“Good Morning,” he whispered as he slid his morning wood
inside me.

I closed my eyes and savored the moment. Cash was taking his
sweet time, swirling the lower half of him in slow circles, stretching me so he
could fit more easily. He felt so good inside me, living in that space like he
paid rent there. He began to move and my fingers dug into his back.

Cash was giving me everything. The more he gave, the more I
wanted. I gripped the back of his shoulders with both hands and said his name
until fireworks exploded inside me and all I saw were white dots behind my
eyelids. I buried my face into his neck to muffle the cries of satisfaction. My
orgasms led to his. He pulled out and fell back onto the bed as he let go into
the sheet. He tossed the sheet on the floor and pulled me into the hollow of
his arms. I rested my head on his chest while we both tried to catch our
breath.

“Good Morning,” was the last thing I uttered before I fell
asleep on Cash’s chest.

It was a little after noon when I finally opened my eyes,
ready to actually start the day. Cash was flipping through the channels on his
52-inch television mounted on the wall.

“You should have woke me up,” I yawned.

“Why? I just woke up a few minutes ago.”

I sat up and took my phone off his nightstand. Amy had been
texting me.

“I should go,” I told Cash. “Amy and her husband want to
have lunch. I’d really like to see them before they head back home.”

“Amy’s your best friend, right? The blonde at the club?”

“She’s my best girl friend,” I corrected him. “Troy is my
best friend. Amy is your biggest fan.”

“I liked her,” Cash commented. “She’s funny.”

I patted his chest and looked around for my shorts. “You
have no idea how happy she was to meet you. I think I’ll treat them to the
Russian Tea Room. It shouldn’t be that busy today, right?”

I saw my blue evening gown draped over a chair and
remembered that the only shoes I had were a pair of Givenchy stilettos. How ridiculous
would I look trying to hail a cab in a pair of American Eagle sweatshorts, a tank
top, and stilettos?

“Dude, do you think you can give me a ride to my hotel? It
would be better than standing outside of your apartment half naked, don’t you
think?”

Cash looked surprised when he asked if I was really leaving.

“I can’t stay here all day. I have to do stuff,” I uttered.
Aside from lunch, I had nothing to do, but I can’t stay in his apartment
wishing and pretending for something that isn’t possible.